The High King's Dilemma
by Scarlett Princess
Summary: The council has decreed that Peter find a bride by midsummer. Peter/OC. Co-authored with Lessien Lossehelin and originally under her account, but has been switched to mine.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: K, here's the deal. Lessien Lossehelin and I cowrote this and it's been moved to my account. I've made the chapters shorter, so if you're looking for new material, you'll want to start with chapter three or four... I forget which.

Chapter One

A bang was heard in the castle as a door was thrown open, hitting the wall. High King Peter charged out of the room, cloak billowing. Servants darted out of the way as their normally calm king descended towards them. King Peter walked out of the hallway, and into a secret door that was behind a tapestry of a dancing faun. There he stalked until he found another door and wretched it open. Peter entered his room, and took a deep breath. After that he took off his crown, and threw it across the room with a shout of frustration.

"You know Peter, that is supposed to be on your head, and not used as a Frisbee," a voice drawled behind him. Peter rolled his eyes.

"It can be used as whatever I see fit, I am High King after all. What are you doing in here, Ed?" Peter questioned. Edmund got up from where he was sitting and looked at Peter.

"I was summoned to check on my dear brother, and the council is not impressed by your abrupt departure from the meeting," Edmund stated. Peter shook his head, and sat down at his desk, trying to breathe deeply. Edmund looked at his brother in concern.

"So what is it that got you all riled up?" Edmund asked. Peter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Edmund looked alarmed, noticing his brother's weary gesture. Slowly Peter opened his eyes and looked at Edmund

"They want me to marry."

"Well, you've always been pretty serious, but not as bad as Susan."

"They don't want me to _be _merry; they want me to _get _married. Use your head, Ed."

"Either way, it doesn't make much sense to me."

"Does anything?" sneered Peter.

"What's got your knickers in a knot? Just because you're upset you don't need to take it out on me."

Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, Ed. It's just-- the whole thing's ridiculous. It seems like now things are relatively peaceful the council has nothing better to do but nag. I have to worry about tedious, ridiculous details that would drive a man mad! Susan was always better at remembering those kinds of things."

"It's 'cause she's a girl, mate."

"Exactly! And now I've got to marry one!"

"Yeah, but who?"

"I don't know," said Peter thoughtfully. He grinned suddenly. "I left before I could find out."

Edmund smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Edmund chuckled when he heard Peter sighed, and lifted an eyebrow when Peter uttered a curse under his breath.

"Why can't they just leave me alone," Peter groaned, and threw himself down on the bed. Edmund shook his head at Peter's theatrics.

"That's what happens when you're High King, mate." Peter glared at Edmund, and Edmund smiled cheekily back at him. Another knock was issued on the door, and Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, come in," Peter yelled. Peter sat up, and smiled, putting on his "friendly, non-threatening king face".

"Ah, Mr. Tumnus, it's good to see you. Did those pompous wind bags send you to talk to me?" Peter drawled. Mr. Tumnus chuckled.

"Indeed, they have. I believe that you left them rather speechless at your abrupt departure," Mr. Tumnus said. Peter nodded his head, and Mr. Tumnus continued, "As you already know the council had decided that it is in the best interest of Narnia that the High King marry and produce an heir. In acknowledging that you, ah-hem, may be not be, er, exactly thrilled cough with the task they have set upon you, they have graciously allowed you until midsummer's eve to choose your own bride or they will choose a bride for you." Peter looked at Mr. Tumnus in disbelief.

"Are you joking? By midsummer's eve, that's in three weeks! This has got to be the biggest piece of..."

"Ah-ah, your majesty," said Mr. Tumnus warningly. "Remember, you have not been high king long. In our history it is traditional for the council to choose the bride at the outset. You are very fortunate that they have given you time to choose."

"Fortunate?" asked Peter incredulously.

"He's right, mate," said Edmund. "It could be worse."

"Worse?" said Peter his voice increasing in pitch. "How can? But how is it? Wha? I—" He gave up trying to speak and threw himself back onto his bed again in frustration.

"If I may, your majesty," began Mr. Tumnus cautiously.

"Yes, go on," said Peter waving a hand in the air.

"Perhaps this situation is not so bad. Perhaps," Mr. Tumnus paused uncertainly, "perhaps it is possible to find a young lady who will, perhaps, love—"

"Love?" said Peter incredulously sitting up. "Oh yes, I'm sure it won't be difficult to find someone who would love being queen, love having the right to order me around! Yes, sure, sure. It won't be difficult at all!"

"Ah," said Mr. Tumnus, "I can see you're not interested in my optimistic ramblings, so I'll only ask one question before I depart."

"What is it?" asked Peter wearily.

"Shall I begin preparations immediately for you to, er, _meet_ with eligible young ladies?"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Peter impatiently, waving him out.

"Very good, sir." Mr. Tumnus left the young High King, and his brother. Peter stared at Mr. Tumnus retreating form, and threw himself back on his bed. Edmund looked down at his brother and rolled his eyes.

"You know Peter you should have a better attitude about things," Edmund stated. Peter looked up at Edmund and scowled at him.

"Shut up, Ed."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Amira sat in the window seat, clutching a letter in her hands while looking out the window. She was so deep in thought that when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she gasped out loud.

"Melva!" she said when she turned her head and saw who was behind her. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Amira's sister-in-law chuckled and sat across from where Amira was clutching her knees to her chest.

"I guess you're here about the letter," said Amira with a sigh, gently setting it between them with a flutter of parchment.

"He wrote you a letter, did he?" said Melva with a raised brow. "I thought I was the only one he sent letters to."

Amira scowled. "My brother has always communicated better in writing and has been sending me letters since I was old enough to read, even if we happen in be in the same castle at the same time."

Melva laughed again and reached for the letter. "I assume," she said, "that if the letters I receive are anything to go by, he's already covered every counter-argument you could come up with and has a reason while it's still better to see things his way."

"Yes and it's bloody annoying. I don't want to marry the high king, but it's all in the name of Archenland," she finished with dry flourish, throwing her arms out. "And even though he explained it, I still don't see how an alliance will help boost our economy. But then I've never understood his numerical explanations."

Amira fell silent as she waited for Melva to finish reading her letter. "Well?" she asked when Melva finally put it down.

Melva looked at her thoughtfully and asked, "How do you feel about it?"

"Well, it doesn't matter how I feel, does it?" said Amira bitterly. "I could never say no to the king, my own brother, could I?"

"I guessed that," said Melva wryly. "But what do you think about the specifics, the high king himself, for example?"

Amira shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I've never met him personally. I saw him once at some function, but I'm only a princess--he talked to my brother and I didn't get a second glance. His sisters talked to me though, both of them. They were cordial enough, I suppose. From that experience I don't think I have much of a chance getting his attention, do I? Why would he pay attention to me when he hasn't before?"

"Because he'll be looking for you."

"Aren't you forgetting that I'll be competing for his attention?"

Melva laughed. "And what do you think I had to do to get your brother?" she asked.

Amira wrinkled her nose. "Actually, I'd rather not think about it, thank you."

Melva just smiled and said, "Well it's simple really. I--" Amira cut her off.

"Please, Melva, spare me the details. There are just some things that a girl doesn't need know about her brother," she said. They looked at each other, and laughed.

After they had calmed down Melva looked at Amira.

"Amira, I really believe that you should give this a chance. You never know, the high king could love you." Amira scoffed at Melva.

"Love me? I will believe that when pigs fly!"

After their entertaining conversation, Melva had been fetched by a servant to attend to her three month old daughter, so Amira, though she loved seeing her niece dearly, decided to go on a ride rather than accompany her sister-in-law. She went down to the stables and after she had saddled her beloved horse, Hasana, she rode off.

"I think I chose exactly the wrong time of day to go for a ride," mused Amira as she slowed her horse to a trot.

"Quite right," said Hasana with a toss of her mane. "It's entirely too hot, for my way of thinking. I wouldn't mind stopping at that stream over there for a drink, if you have nowhere better in mind."

"I hadn't planned a set course," admitted Amira. She slackened her reins in unspoken consent for Hasana to go where she pleased and the good horse immediately set for the stream.

"Amira!"

Amira heard the voice calling and turned in her saddle to seek out who it was. Hasana, too, looked over her shoulder and huffed in displeasure.

"It's your brother," Hasana said, "and that--that, overgrown stallion of his!"

Amira looked and saw that Hasana was right-- it was her twin brother, Damien, and his horse Bronwyn.

"What, ho!" said Damien in greeting as he approached.

"What ho, yourself," said Amira wryly.

"Seen our kingly brother recently?"

"No," said Amira, "as a matter of fact, I haven't seen Ulrich."

"But you did get his letter?"

Amira rolled her eyes. "Of course," she said. "It's not like it could have gotten lost in the fifteen minutes it took for the servant to deliver it to me."

"You never know," said Damien cheekily. "So, I guess you're aware that Ulrich is preparing your escort as we speak?"

"Botheration!" said Amira. "I had hoped-- do you think he would allow me to travel to Cair Paravel on my own? I was hoping for some alone time and the journey would be a perfect time for it."

"Why don't you ask me yourself," said a voice behind the two of them.

"Ulrich!" said Damien heartily. "Nice to see you've joined the party."

Ulrich urged his horse forward until the three of them were abreast of the stream. "So," said Ulrich, "you'd rather appear at Cair Paravel without an entourage? You do realize, of course, how that would look to the other nobility?"

Amira shrugged. "I don't really care," she said. "I don't think that sort of thing should matter."

"Neither do I," said Ulrich. "I only thought you might. But if you don't, I suppose I see no harm in going alone."

"The only problem I can foresee is Melva," said Amira. "I don't think she'll approve of me going without someone with me. She'll probably say it's dangerous."

"We won't tell her then," said Damien.

"Better yet," threw in Ulrich, "we not only won't tell her, but the pair of you can leave in the middle of the night."

"Yes, I suppose I don't mind if Damien comes," said Amira.

"Sounds fun to me," said Damien.

"It's settled then," said Ulrich. "I'll continue with the preparations as if nothing has changed."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

King Peter wanted to pull his hair out. After the council had proposed this ridiculous notion Peter had been a little annoyed, however at this very moment Peter wanted to track down his so-called advisors and kill them. The woman that sat before him was beautiful, but she was also the most annoying creature that he had ever met. He had lost track a long time ago of what she was talking about.

"…and then he said that he didn't do it, but I know that he did. After all, the duke has always been jealous of my other suitors. But of course I knew I must forsake them all on your behalf, even though there were ever so many of them," the lady simpered. Peter smiled and scratched above his left ear, and this was the cue for his manservant.

"I beg your pardon, your majesty," he said, "but I'm afraid you have business to attend to, something about centaur agreements?"

"Yes, of course. I will be there shortly," Peter said. The man left, and Peter was once more alone with the maddening creature.

"I am sorry, my lady, that our time was cut short." Peter rose, and so did the lady.

"That is quite all right. I enjoyed the time we had together, your majesty," and with that she left. Peter sighed in relief, and flopped himself down into the chair. He leaned back into his chair.

"I presume it didn't go well?' Peter leaned down, and put his head in his hands.

"No, Susan, it didn't. It was a bloody nightmare," Peter moaned. Susan shook her head at Peter and regally sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Tsk, tsk. That is not the language fit for the High King to use," Susan stated. Peter waved her statement away.

"Whatever. I can say what I want." Peter looked up and with a puzzled look on face asked, "What was her name again?" Susan stared at Peter.

"Are you joking?" Susan questioned. Peter stood up abruptly.

"No, Susan, I'm not. All I can remember is her gibbering about some lace thing." Peter walked out of the sitting room with Susan trailing after him.

"Peter, how could you? That's awful. I thought that you were better than that. It's common courtesy for you to learn the names of the ladies that could possibly be your bride."

"What, all ten thousand of them?"

"Don't be silly, Peter. I'd be surprised if there were more than fifty or sixty maybe."

"Really? You wouldn't be able to tell from the village that seems to have sprung up outside the castle," said Peter dryly, gesturing out a nearby window where you could see a sea of tents.

"Well," said Susan with a small smile, "they did need to bring their ladies-in-waiting and such. And you know women naturally need more attendants than their male counterparts. Have you ever tried to lace a dress up the back by yourself?"

"Obviously not."

"Anyway, this whole situation isn't really as bad as it seems."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

"Just think of it as an opportunity to meet people. Oh, and don't forget to make a good impression, regardless of whether you like them or not. You never know what they'll tell people."

"Loose lips sink ships and all that?"

"Exactly."

"Very well, _mother_."

As they neared their chambers they parted ways, Peter to his quarters and Susan to hers. Mr. Tumnus had to hunt Peter down for another introduction and later that evening there was, of course, a banquet at which he was surrounded on every hand by strange women he had never before met in his life. It was a trial and Peter was thankful when it was all over and he could retire to his room for the evening, only to have Mr. Tumnus once again retrieve him from his quarters for an informal celebration, a dance where he danced with every woman twice. Feet aching, Peter retired to his rooms close to one in the morning where he collapsed in bed.

In Anvard, of course, Amira and Damien were just awakening and preparing to leave. Amira had already packed, though lightly. She had only two outfits, her best dress and her riding outfit, besides the disguise she was wearing, which was an old outfit of Damien's. It was a little big on her, but it would do. Other than a handheld mirror and a comb, Amira had brought nothing personal. She had also packed a loaf of bread, cheese and an apple. She figured it would be enough until they reached Winding Arrow River where they would buy passage to Mavanta, one of the coastal towns, where they would find a ship to take them to Cair Paravel.

"Are you ready?" asked Damien who just had slipped into Amira's room.

"Is there a reason you decided to come through my window?" asked Amira with her hands on her hips.

"We don't want to be seen, of course," explained Damien with a grin.

Amira rolled her eyes. "This isn't a prison and we're not breaking out. We could walk right out the front door and nobody would have a right to question us. The only person we have to worry about is Melva and she's fast asleep!"

"Still," said Damien with a shrug, "the less people who see us leave, the longer it takes for word to get out."

"Fine. Have it your way," huffed Amira, grasping her cloak and throwing it on with a flourish. "Lead on, sweet prince!"

Damien smirked at his sister, a smirk that made Amira a little uncomfortable. Damien clasped his hands together.

"Well then let's go!" Damien turned to exit the way that he came in. Amira looked at her brother's retreating back, a little worried.

"But the window? Damien, must we?" she asked. Damien looked back at his sister, and shrugged, trying to make light of it.

"Come now, Amira. I know you're scared of heights, but think of it as an adventure." Amira snorted.

"An adventure that involves falling to my death does not sound exciting to me."

"Come on now, there's a good girl," Damien said, as if he were coaxing an animal.

"Could you please stop taunting me?"

Damien stopped and looked at her seriously. "I was only trying to lighten the mood. Come on, I won't let anything too bad happen to you."

Amira slowly nodded, and Damien smiled.

"Excellent. Now let's go," Damien exclaimed, and with that they started their adventure that would change their lives forever.

"Aren't you glad there's a huge tree right outside your window?" said Damien lightly.

"Shhh!" said Amira. "Goodness, I thought you were the one who wanted this operation to be covert," she hissed.

"Everybody's sleeping! Hallo? Is anyone listening?" he yelled.

"Quiet!" someone yelled back.

Damien only laughed louder as he handed his sister to the ground. "See?" he said. "That wasn't so bad."

Amira looked up into the branches of the tall tree. "It certainly went faster than I would have expected," she said with a small frown on her face. She adjusted her pack.

"That's because I'm a genius at distractions, thank you," said Damien with a smirk.

"Where's Hasana?" asked Amira.

"Right here," her horse answered and Amira felt a nudge at her shoulder. Amira and Damien quickly mounted their horses and set out in the dark.

"I can't see anything. How do we know we're on the right road?" asked Amira.

"Bronwyn and I know the way, your majesty," replied Hasana.

"Yeah," said Damien. "Just trust the horses. We should reach the river before noon."

"I certainly hope so," murmured Amira.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Flaming hell!"

"Peter!"

"What?" said Peter exasperatedly. "Weren't you listening? Did you or did you not hear that girl go on for the entire half hour about the latest hair styles?"

"That's not the point, Peter," said Susan, primly. "Frankly, I wish I had thought of attending these interview sessions sooner. I can't believe you made that one girl cry."

"I only said that I didn't like blue!"

"But she was wearing a blue dress!"

"She was? I hadn't noticed."

"Exactly, Peter. You don't notice anything except the bad. Give the next one a chance, will you? Not just for me or for Narnia or because the council told you to. Do it for you." Susan finished her emphatic speech with a flourish.

Peter merely shook his head at her. "Where did you learn it?"

"Learn what?"

"How to pack on the guilt," answered Peter.

Susan rolled her eyes and picked up her cup of tea.

Mr. Tumnus poked his head into the small sitting room. "Lady Solwyn of Telmar, your majesties," he announced.

Peter sighed a little, but stopped when he saw the look that Susan was giving him. Soon his attention was diverted to the woman that was walking into the room, and his heart stopped. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen, and she wasn't wearing blue. Peter stood up, and bowed a little at her.

"Welcome my lady, to Cair Paravel," Peter said. The lady Solwyn nodded her head at him.

"I thank you, your majesty, for taking time to meet me," she said. Peter smiled at her and offered her a seat.

"The pleasure is all mine." The afternoon turned out to be the best that Peter had ever experienced. Solwyn was not only beautiful, but also intelligent.

"I believe that Narnia should adopt more of the Calormenes ideals," Solwyn stated. Peter looked at her, a little shocked.

"What do you mean my lady?" Lady Solwyn took a deep breath.

"I can't believe that you let these disgusting creatures roam free. I think that you should follow the Calormenes and enslave them. After all, that is the only way to control them." After she had said this there was a silence in the room. Peter stared at Solwyn, and anger began to boil within him.

"My lady, I think that you should leave," Peter said in a barely controlled voice. Lady Solwyn stood up primly.

"My father was right; you are barbarians." With that she swept out of the room leaving behind a storm. After she had exited Peter leapt up, and started pacing. Susan clutched her hands together, anger brimming off of her.

"How dare she say such a thing? I have never been so angry in my life," Susan said.

"I cannot meet anyone else today. I need to get out," and with that Peter stormed out of the sitting room. A few minutes later Edmund walked in casually. He looked around with a puzzled look on his face.

"Where's Peter?"

"He left." Edmund chuckled a little.

"That's the second time he's done that. He really needs to control his temper." Susan didn't say anything and Edmund noticed the look on her face.

"What's the matter, Su?" Edmund sat down next to Susan and took her hand. Susan began to explain what had happened, and Edmund felt the same rage. After Susan had finished with the scene the sat in silence thinking over what had happened. Suddenly Susan turned to face Edmund.

"Ed, you need to find Peter." Edmund nodded.

"You're right of course, and you should find Lucy. Tell her what happened." Susan nodded. They got up, and Susan hugged Edmund.

"Thank you for listening to me."

Edmund nodded. They left together and than parted ways.

It took Edmund an hour to find his brother. Peter could hide quite well when he wanted to. Edmund found him in the gardens, and sat next to him.

"Soooo," began Edmund, "rough day?"

"You could say that," said Peter bitterly.

"Susan told me what happened."

"It's the same thing that's happened every time I meet a girl. Everything's going alright and then suddenly you find out she's racist! Or she hates horses, or she's just a plain ninny! Oh, and there was the girl who fainted twice a day. That was exciting."

"No one's perfect, mate."

"Who said anything about being perfect? I just want someone I can stand to be around!"

"Well, if you hadn't known me and Luce and Susan all our lives, would you be able to stand us?"

Peter shrugged. He smiled a little. "Well, Luce is alright," he said, with a glance at Edmund. "I can't say how I feel about the others."

"Hey!" said Edmund mock indignantly. "I cannot allow myself to be so insulted. Sir, I challenge you to a duel!"

"A duel, huh?" said Peter. He suddenly leapt and grabbed a stick off the ground. "En garde!"

"Haha!" Edmund said when he had found his weapon. "En garde yourself, sir!"

Meanwhile, Susan was having the devil of a time finding Lucy. She walked into a small study on the third floor and saw Mr. Tumnus. "Oh!" she said. "Mr. Tumnus, have you seen-- oh Lucy, there you are! I've been looking all over for you. Perhaps it's best that I talk to both of you at once."

Lucy and Mr. Tumnus, who had been enjoying their afternoon tea, looked at each other with raised brows. Susan seated herself and looked at both of them sternly.

"It's Peter and this marriage business," she began.

"Is something wrong?" asked Mr. Tumnus. "Are the arrangements not satisfactory?"

"Oh, you've done wonderfully, Mr. Tumnus," said Susan, "and on such short notice, too. It's only that--" Susan briefly explained what had happened that afternoon.

"Oh dear," said Mr. Tumnus.

"That's awful!" chimed in Lucy.

"I was only wondering, Mr. Tumnus," said Susan, "what method you've been using to select which ladies are allowed an interview with Peter."

"Well," began Mr. Tumnus, "it was all so very sudden, you see, and the ladies nearly appeared overnight it seemed, so I've only been using the most superficial of criteria, sending in first the ladies from the oldest families. I haven't had time, I'm afraid, to conduct interviews beforehand to see if there might be any objections to the ladies."

"Oh, it's not your fault, Mr. Tumnus," said Lucy reassuringly.

"Of course not," said Susan. "I'm sorry if I had implied it was and you really have done such a wonderful job, but perhaps it's time to turn over the organization of the interviews and events to someone else. It would allow you time to do interviews beforehand."

"I'll help!" said Lucy eagerly.

"Yes, that would do perfectly," said Susan. "Lucy's known Peter a long time and you, Mr. Tumnus, would know what kind of, er, political type questions to ask."

"And you can organize the interviews and events!" suggested Lucy.

"What?" said Susan.

"You'd do so well at it," said Lucy. "You've always been good at that sort of thing."

"Very well," said Susan resignedly as she stood to leave. "For today I believe it would be best if the rest of the activities for the day were cancelled. That would give you two time to begin your own interviews and for me to begin planning." Susan paused at the door and turned around.

"I've just had a thought, Mr. Tumnus," she said. "Well, a question, really. Who do you think the council would choose for Peter to marry? Should we worry that they will pick someone like Lady Solwyn?"

"If I had to guess, milady," said Mr. Tumnus, "they would choose the next in line out of the oldest family."

"And who would that be?"

"Why, Princess Amira of Archenland, milady."

"Thank you, Mr. Tumnus," said Susan, turning once again to leave.

"Incidentally," said Mr. Tumnus before Susan could make it out the door, "Princess Amira has a twin brother. Should the council likewise choose to force you into matrimony, Lady Susan, Prince Damien is their likely choice."

Susan paused. "I--? Wha--?" Then she shook her head. "I have more important things to worry about, right now," she snapped and finally departed. Lucy giggled.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Amira closed her eyes as she let the sea air drift over her. After half a day's ride they had made it to the Winding Arrow River, and had taken a barge down the river to the sea, which they reached near sunset. At the mouth of the sea, Amira and Damien found a ship to take them to Cair Paravel. It would take them twice as long to reach Cair Paravel as it had taken them to reach the sea, but the sea was beautiful and Amira enjoyed having this time to think about her future. The closer the ship got to Cair Paravel, the more nervous she got. It was a lot to take in that she could possibly marry the High King of Narnia. Amira sighed, and opened her eyes.

"Are okay, Amira?" Amira gave a little shriek and whirled around. She then hit her brother on the arm. He grabbed his arm with a hurt look on his face.

"Ow. What was that for?" he questioned.

"For scaring me." Amira turned back around to look at the waters before her. Damien came on the other side of her, and leaned his arms against the railing.

"It's beautiful," Amira sighed.

Damien grunted noncommittally.

"It's been a year since I last saw the ocean," Amira continued. "I hadn't realized how much I missed it until now. I'm glad you came with me, Damien. If--" Amira paused. "If I marry the high king," she said unsteadily, "you will visit me often, won't you?"

"Visit?" said Damien with a soft grin. "I'll visit so often and so long you won't remember the last time I went home. I wouldn't leave you alone, Amira."

When she heard his words, Amira looked into his eyes with a brilliant smile, though her eyes were brimming with tears. "Thank you," she choked out. Damien pulled her into a fierce hug. Amira pulled away suddenly.

"What if he's already chosen a wife?" she asked fearfully.

"Then we'll go home and you can marry whoever you want," said Damien with a shrug.

"But Ulrich made it seem so... monumentally important that I marry the high king, I'll feel horrible if I fail."

"Well, bugger him, then," said Damien.

"I just worry because it was half a week since the decree before Ulrich made his decision that I should go. Already there will be ladies from all over Narnia--"

"Stop worrying," interrupted Damien. "We're not even there yet. Besides, if I had to guess, there are probably too many women for the high king to choose from. He wouldn't be able to make that kind of decision in only a few days time."

"I guess you're right," said Amira.

"I know I am," said Damien firmly and he pulled his sister to his side again. Together they watched as the sun set, and each pondered the future.

They were now nearing Cair Paravel and Amira almost left like running from the ship screaming. Her heart began to beat wildly within her chest. It seemed that the trip went by quickly. Amira turned from the view and quickly walked to her room, and there she started pacing. Ten minutes went by and Damien found Amira pacing with a panicked look on her face. Damien approached her warily not knowing how to come to her.

"Amira what's going on?" Damien asked. Amira whirled around.

"I can't do this. Why, oh why did Ulrich make me do this? The very thought of meeting the high king makes me want to throw up! And what if he decides that he does want to marry me? I wouldn't make a good queen, and what if I don't like him?" By this point Amira was wailing, and Damien had no clue how to comfort her.

"Amira, stop," he said desperately, grabbing her hands. "Look at me!"

She looked at him wildly with wide eyes, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"You're going to make yourself sick," he said. "Just—stop, you have to stop this."

She nodded, but her actions belied her words as her body started shaking. Damien hugged her as close to himself as he could, holding her up.

"It'll be ok," he murmured into her hair. Tears were still streaming down Amira's face. "It'll be fine," he said and he continued to repeat reassurances to her until she began to calm down. She was still breathing heavily when she stepped away from her brother.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. She smiled shakily and coughed. "I don't think I've cried like that since Dad died," she said with a small laugh.

"I know," said Damien. "But it's over now, right?"

"Yes," said Amira. "I'm fine now." She turned her back on Damien to grab her pack. "Is, uh, is it almost time to go?" she asked.

"A half hour, I think, before we get there. And then we have to wait for the crew to unload Hasana and Bronwyn. That might take awhile."

Amira nodded. "I think I'll visit with Hasana until we get there," she said.

"Good idea," said Damien. "I'll go talk to the captain for a bit. I'll find you before we land, yeah?"

"Yeah," agreed Amira.

The remainder of the journey passed without incident and soon Amira and Damien were riding up the beach to Cair Paravel. The ship had docked a few miles south of the castle at a small village for the express purpose of dropping them off before continuing on their trade route. Amira was glad to be on land again, though she had enjoyed the ocean voyage. She patted Hasana's mane companionably as they neared Cair Paravel.

"Good _night_," said Damien with an impressed whistle when they had arrived. "Has the whole kingdom shown up, do you think?"

"Damien, where will we stay?" Amira asked. She bit her lip. "I hadn't thought about lodgings."

"Neither had I. We could ask around, I suppose. Someone probably has room."

They had decided to go around asking various individuals if they could share lodgings, but it was with heavy hearts that they trudged up to the castle.

"I can't believe they all said that they didn't have room! Come on, that one lady from wherever totally had room. I don't understand," Amira ranted.

"Well there is one good thing about all of this," Damien said. Amira looked at him.

"Those were very good looking women--expect for the one with the buck teeth." Amira promptly smacked him on the arm.

Queen Lucy was feeling a little flustered. When she had agreed to help with the screening of various ladies for Peter, she hadn't quite expected the hours of work that it would entail. In fact she was beginning to understand why Peter was so upset about the whole thing. Finding the perfect match for her brother was indeed tiring. Lucy sighed as she read over the latest report that had been submitted about a Lady Cilwyn and put her in the discard pile, which was quite thick. Lucy leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. What she would give to have a little nap.

"Your majesty?" Lucy sat up and nodded at the servant who was standing in the door.

"Prince Damien and Princess Amira of Archenland wish to speak with you, your majesty."

"Send them in please," Lucy asked. The servant nodded and opened the door, and in walked the prince and princess. Lucy rose when they walked in, and her eyes widened when she saw them. The prince was a good looking fellow, and appeared to have a mischievous look in his eye. _He would be good for Susan,_ Lucy thought. Her eyes than drifted to the princess. She wasn't the most beautiful woman in the land, but something about her was striking. Lucy thought that she would do for Peter. They both bowed to her, and she inclined her head to them.

"Won't you be seated," Lucy said. They sat down.

"Your majesty, forgive us for taking up your time. When my sister and I left Archenland we foolishly hadn't thought of lodgings. We were hoping that you could tell us of an inn that we could rest at," Damien said.

"Oh my. I am sorry to say that the nearest inns have been filled," Lucy said. Their faces fell, and Lucy felt compassion towards them.

"Is it just the two of you?" Lucy asked.

"Why yes it is. And our horses." Lucy smiled brightly at them.

"Well in that case, we can provide lodging for you in the castle." Lucy reached over for the bell cord to ring for a servant.

"Oh, we wouldn't wish to impose, your majesty," Amira said. Lucy waved her concern aside.

"Nonsense. I couldn't bear the thought of you not having a place to stay. We would be more than willing to have you stay here. No arguments," Lucy said when she saw Amira open her mouth.

"Thank you, your grace," said Damien. "I would have been quite happy to find lodgings in a nearby tree, but Amira wasn't keen on the idea."

Amira smiled grimly and surreptitiously stepped on Damien's foot. He grimaced. All this Lucy noted with an amused look on her face. Yes, the two of them would be perfect.

"Ah, Mr. Tumnus," said Lucy upon the good fawn's entrance. "The prince and princess of Archenland require rooms for the duration of their stay. You will see to it, won't you?"

Mr. Tumnus raised a cool brow and replied, "Of course, milady. Follow me, your majesties."

The trio left the room and Lucy was forced to return to her task only to be interrupted ten minutes later by the arrival of Susan.

"What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" hissed Susan.

Lucy looked at her in surprise. "Why, going through the reports you sent me, of course."

"Never mind that," said Susan. "Tell me what the prince and princess of Archenland are doing in the east wing. There had better be a good reason for this."

"It's simple, really. They had no place to stay. No room in the inn, you know."

"Don't be glib," snapped Susan. "And why, pray tell, does that mean they were issued an invitation to the castle? You know as well as I do the jealousy it will cause among the other ladies when news gets out. We could have a coup on our hands before you know it."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Lucy.

"Me? Ridiculous?" gasped Susan.

"You're only upset because Prince Damien is as handsome as the rumors said he was."

Susan pulled herself up regally. "I can see you're determined to talk nonsense," she said. "Very well. I won't bother with you then!" She flounced out.

Once again, Lucy giggled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Edmund suppressed a chuckle as he watched Peter, who had a pained look in his eyes. The lady that Peter met with today was chattering on and Edmund had long since tuned her out. He enjoyed watching Peter who almost had a look of disgust on his face. Peter sighed, and Edmund decided to intervene.

"My lady, we thank you for visiting with us. I am sorry to say that our time has to be cut short for a matter of state business," Edmund said.

"Of course; it was nice to meet you, your grace," she said. She left and Peter smiled weakly at Edmund.

"Thanks Ed. These meetings get worse with each girl that is being thrown at me," Peter said. Edmund frowned at this statement.

"Shouldn't it be getting better since Lucy, Mr. Tumnus, and Susan are screening the ladies?" Edmund asked.

"Well, yes in a way. However the girls just seem to get more ridiculous. I just can't stand it!" Edmund raised an eyebrow at this.

"I didn't realize that you were so dramatic, Peter."

Peter glared at Edmund, and stood up. He walked out of the room, and Edmund hurried after him.

"Hey, where are going?" Edmund cried after him.

"Away from you."

Edmund clutched his chest.

"Oh, my heart! You have wounded me sir!"

Peter chuckled at Edmunds remark.

"Now who is the dramatic one?"

Edmund was going to argue back, when Peter stopped suddenly.

"Er…Peter why did you stop in the middle of the hallway?" Edmund turned to see what Peter was looking at, and was still confused. Peter then turned to Edmund.

"Ed, who is that?" Peter asked nodding his head turned a lady who was talking to Mr. Tumnus.

"Why, that's the Princess Amira of Archenland." Peter continued to stare at her transfixed.

"What is she doing here?" asked Peter.

Edmund stared at him with a bewildered look on his face.

"What?" Peter asked noticing the look. Edmund shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't you remember Susan telling us that Lucy invited Princess Amira and her brother Prince Damien to stay in the castle since there was nowhere else to stay?" Peter shook his head.

"Here's a little secret Ed, I don't always listen when Susan talks," Peter whispered, looking around as if to see if Susan was around.

"Obviously."

Both Peter and Edmund were now openly watching Amira and Mr. Tumnus and Amira, feeling someone was watching, turned her head. Peter panicked and immediately turned around.

"Hey, wha—" said Edmund, as he turned to look at his brother who had started walking away.

"Where are you going?" asked Edmund. "Why don't you go and talk to her?"

"Why?" asked Peter bitterly. "So she can regale me with insipid conversation about lace and dressing gowns? Face it, Ed. The prettier a girl is, the more obsessed she is with clothes."

"But Su and Luce look alright, for girls anyway, and they're not obsessed with clothes."

"That's different."

"How is it different? Look, maybe the reason girls only talk lace with you is because they don't know what to talk about."

"They can talk about anything they like!" said Peter, throwing his arms wide.

"That's about as much help as it is to have you just sit there and stare at them, waiting for them to say something."

"What are you saying, Ed?"

"If you don't want to listen to a girl talk about lace, ask her how her day has been or what her favorite color is, for crying out loud."

"It all leads to lace, Ed," said Peter, "It all leads to lace."

Edmund shook his head and watched as Peter kept walking in the direction of the gardens.

"Excuse me," said a voice at Edmund's elbow. "Have you seen my brother?"

Edmund turned around and was looking into the eyes of Princess Amira.

"Your brother," began Ed slowly, "right, right. Looks like you, but about a foot taller, black, curly hair?"

"Yes," answered Amira softly. "I've been looking for him for over an hour. I was going to help him with his hair this evening, for the dance. I always do."

"Yes, of course," said Edmund, taking her elbow. "You know, I believe I saw him walking in the direction of the gardens. Straight through that door there, do you see?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good luck!" called Edmund.

Amira gave him a bewildered look before stepping through the door and right into a body.

"Oh," she gasped as she looked up. Her eyes widened and she backpedaled frantically. "Have you seen my brother?" she blurted out, hardly knowing what she was saying.

"Brother?" Peter said who was panicking as well. "No, no. I'm looking for my brother. He was following me—" Peter trailed off while reaching for the door behind princess Amira. She stumbled out of his way and he bolted out the door. The door slammed behind him and Amira sank onto a cool, stone bench. "Oh," she breathed softly, hardly believing what had happened.

It took only a few moments for Peter to find his scheming brother.

"Where were you?" he accused. "I thought you were right behind me."

"I was," said Edmund. "Then I remembered I was hungry."

"Oh, just like that, you remembered," said Peter sarcastically. "Well, thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," said Edmund cheerfully.

"You smug ass—"

"Ah-ah! Language, King Peter."

"Shut up, Ed."

Amira stared blankly into the mirror. Her mind flashed back to when she met the high king, and she felt like banging her head on the table. Amira picked up her brush and began to comb it absently. The door to her room opened, and her brother entered with a sigh. Amira turned around.

"Where have you been?" she asked. Damien looked at her, and sat down in the other chair.

"Oh you know, here, there, everywhere." Damien sighed again, and Amira looked at him closely. Then she realized his predicament.

"You've met a girl, haven't you," Amira exclaimed. Damien looked at her.

"I have no clue what you are talking about." Amira gave him a look. She then returned to brushing her hair. Damien looked at his sister noticing something was off.

"Amira, is there something bothering you?" Damien questioned. Amira looked at Damien's reflection in the mirror.

"No," she replied. Damien got up, and sat next to her.

"You know that I can always tell when you are lying," Damien said quietly. Amira put down her brush and stared at her hands that were now resting in her lap.

"I met the high king today," she said. Damien was a little startled at this statement.

"Really? How did it go?" Damien asked.

"I bumped into him, quite literally, and he took off as if I were a disease." Damien put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation. He was probably in a hurry to get ready for the dance tonight," he said. Amira nodded. Damien rubbed his hands together, and stood up excitedly. "Speaking of which, we had better get going before we are late," he exclaimed.

Meanwhile Peter was getting a rather intense lecture from Susan. Edmund looked on with amusement while Lucy looked at Peter with disappointment. The disappointed look that Lucy was giving him was actually hard for Peter to bear.

"I just can't believe how rude you were to her! The princess of Archenland is one of our closet allies, and you were an absolute prat to the poor thing! You had better apologize to her Peter or I will—"

"Why did you run off, Peter?" Lucy broke in quietly. Susan stopped and all of his siblings stared at him waiting for an explanation.

"Well, I—none of your business, that's what!" he said indignantly.

Susan scowled. "You had better be prepared to mend the damage you have done. We can't have her running home to tell her father that the high king is a rude, insensitive prat."

"Brother," said Lucy.

"What?"

"Her elder brother is the king," said Lucy. "Her father died last year."

"Either way, it is unacceptable," snapped Susan briskly. "This is hard for all of us, Peter. We're doing our best to get you through this and it's time for you to do your part and do it with grace instead of the ill humor of a child!"

Edmund winced in sympathy and Susan swept out the door, slamming it behind her. Lucy closed the brief distance to Peter's side and took his hand in hers.

"It'll be alright, Peter," she said with a small smile. "As much as Susan likes to think it is, it's not the end of the world. She's just stressed. I know you'll do your best." Lucy gave Peter a small kiss on the cheek and departed.

"Ouch," said Edmund. "That was intense."

"No thanks to you."

"Sorry," said Edmund with a shrug. "I didn't think she'd get so upset."

"That's right, you didn't think," snapped Peter. "You only wanted to share the latest joke, have a laugh at your elder brother's expense."

"I said I was sorry," grumbled Edmund.

"Great. Now Susan will be watching me like a hawk to make sure I dance with her."

"It's what you should be doing anyway," said Edmund, "since you like her."

"I don't like her," growled Peter. "I just think she's pretty, that's all."

"Right."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The dance hall was crowded with elegant ladies in their best finery. The ladies outnumbered the gentlemen three to one and therefore it was every gentleman's duty to dance every dance. Amira had, so far, danced two of five dances, one with a count who had come with his sister and the other with an elderly baron who had accompanied his two nieces to Cair Paravel. Bidding a polite farewell to the baron, Amira was determined to find her brother, whom she had lost in the fray, when she was asked to dance by King Edmund.

Amira nodded mutely, and took his hand. They walked to where the other dancers were.

"Have you been enjoying your time in Narnia?" Edmund asked.

"I have been enjoying myself immensely. Narnia is a beautiful country," Amira replied. Edmund smiled at her pleased with her reply.

"Well I am happy that you have been enjoying yourself." Edmund cleared his throat nervously.

"I would like to apologize on behalf of my brother for what happened earlier this evening," Edmund said. Amira looked at King Edmund and smiled.

"It's forgiven your majesty." Edmund opened his mouth to say something when the dance ended. They stopped and clapped at the end of the dance. Edmund turned around once more to say something to Amira when a throat being cleared stopped him. They both turned around to see Peter.

"Princess Amira, my I have the pleasure of dancing with you?"

"Of course, milord," said Amira.

Within moments they were on the dance floor with the other couples and the dance began.

"You're visiting with your brother, are you not?" asked Peter.

"Yes, your grace. I'm here with my twin, Damien. That's him over there," she indicated her brother with a nod in his direction.

"The tall one with black hair?"

"Yes, that's him."

"You certainly look alike."

"You think so?" said Amira with a small smile. "I suppose we do. We have the same coloring—black hair, brown eyes, darker skin. Although our facial features are a bit different and he's at least eight inches taller than I am."

"Yes, well—" Peter trailed off not knowing what to say. "That's nice," he finally offered.

"Yes," agreed Amira giving him a strange look. "It's easy to see the resemblance in your family."

"Is it?"

"Yes, I've often thought so. I think it's lovely."

"I suppose." Peter paused. "Amira," he began, "I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier this evening. I had not meant to—"

"It's forgotten," interrupted Amira. She smiled at him. "Really," she said as a reassurance.

The dance finished soon after and Amira retired to the sidelines. Competition for partners was stiff and Amira only danced a couple more dances before retiring for the night.

The next morning Peter was in an exasperating conference with Susan who was interrogating him about the potential candidates for queen he had met so far.

"It's been a little over a week," she said, "Have you met _anyone_ to your liking?"

"I guess," said Peter rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "There were a couple ok ones."

"A couple _ok ones_? Well," Susan huffed, "that's better than nothing. I don't suppose you remember any of their names?"

"Not really."

"Really, Peter. You ought to try harder than that!"

Peter ignored her.

"What did you think of Princess Amira?" asked Susan with a sharp glance.

"What about her?"

"You did dance with her last night and apologize, did you not?"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"And?"

"It was just a dance, Susan. We didn't get much of a chance to talk."

"Well, that's a situation that will be remedied soon enough. She's your first interview this morning."

"What?!"

"Don't get all excited, Peter," said Susan dryly. "You might hurt yourself."

Peter was nervous. In fact he was more nervous now than when he led the army against the White Witch. Peter took a deep breath to ease the pounding in his heart. He sat in a chair waiting for Amira to come. Peter started drumming his fingers on his thigh, and he desperately longed to leap up and start pacing. When he was about to do so he was caught by the look that Susan gave him, and leaned back in the chair. _Blast. This is ridiculous, she's just a girl. A rather good looking girl,_ he thought to himself and he shook these thought off. The door opened and a servant walked in.

"Princess Amira of Archenland." Peter and Susan stood upon her entrance. When Princess Amira walked in Peter felt it hard to breath. _Shoot._

"Good morning, your majesties," said Amira with a smile as she curtsied.

"Good morning," said Susan pleasantly while Peter mumbled something unintelligibly.

"Have you breakfasted?" asked Susan.

"No, your grace. I'm afraid I was summoned before I was able to do so."

"Well, we'll get that taken care of right away," said Susan with a nod to a nearby servant. "And call me Susan," she added.

"Susan," repeated Amira as she sat in a chair across from Peter and Susan. "This is a lovely room," commented Amira.

"Yes," said Susan, "we, that is, Peter, Lucy, Edmund and I, like to take our afternoon tea here when we have the time. Sometimes it's the only time of the day we see each other. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"Yes, it is," said Peter, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Are the four of you very close?" asked Amira.

"Sometimes a little too close," mumbled Peter under his breath.

"We have to be close," said Susan with a sharp glance at Peter, "to rule Narnia together." Susan shifted before asking, "Are you close to your own family?"

"Yes," said Amira. "I have two older brothers who practically raised me. Father was very busy with the kingdom, of course, but he made sure that I was looked out for and part of that was to make sure that I spent time with my brothers."

"You have no sisters?" asked Susan.

"No," said Amira, "though my eldest brother is now married and so I do have a sister-in-law."

"How do you get along with her?"

"Oh, very well. She's like a sister to me."

"I understand that your eldest brother is king now?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever thought that you might have been queen?" Susan continued with her interrogation.

"I hadn't thought of it much before," said Amira pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Since I have two elder brothers, it's never seemed a possibility."

"But surely you planned to marry a king or something," continued Susan.

Amira looked at her in alarm. "But you don't mean—why I never planned—I hope you hadn't meant that my only ambition is to be queen!" said Amira aghast.

Susan colored in embarrassment. "I only ask because many of the ladies—" Susan broke off and didn't know how to continue.

Peter rolled his eyes. "She's asking because certain ladies have made it quite clear that they're only after the position," said Peter bitterly. "And there are some who pretend they aren't." He narrowed his eyes at Amira.

Amira scowled. "Are you implying that I'm pretending I don't want to be queen?"

"Of course you want to be queen," said Peter, "or you wouldn't be here. I'm saying you're pretending that it's _not_ your only motivation."

"What would you know about my motivations?" snapped Amira. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Exactly!" interrupted Susan, trying to smooth things over. "That's why we ask! I apologize for not being more tactful about the situation, princess, but it is imperative that we know."

Amira scowled and settled back into her seat.

"Sorry I'm late," said Damien coming into the room. "I had a hard time convincing the servant to give me the breakfast tray." He sat next to Amira and set the tray on the table between them. "Muffin?" he asked, holding one out to his sister.

"What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

"I couldn't leave you alone with half of the dynamic quartet, could I?" he asked, leaning in with a mischievous grin on his face. Damien leaned back nonchalantly. "So, Peter," he began, "muffin?"

Susan was ogling the interloper with surprise, but Peter shrugged and took the offered muffin.

"And for you?" Damien asked Susan.

"Oh, no thank you," she said, still a little puzzled by the young man's presence in her previously completely-under-control interview with the Princess of Archenland.

"More for me," said Damien with a cheery shrug. "Banana?" he asked Amira.

She wrinkled her nose. "You know I can't stand those things."

"I know," said Damien, "I just like to see the disgusted look on your face when you refuse!"

Silence reigned as Damien polished off his breakfast, completely unconcerned, or perhaps, unknowing of the awkwardness the others were feeling. He polished off his orange juice and said, "So, let's get down to business. What do you need to know about my sister?"

"Damien!" protested Amira. He ignored her.

"Did you want to hear about the time she accidentally sneezed into the high diplomat's soup? That was right after she tripped over the man's dog and ripped her dress."

Peter was trying not to grin and failing while Amira looked embarrassed and Susan looked embarrassed on Amira's behalf.

"Damien, please," pleaded Amira.

"Oh, all right," he said. "I'll just tell them about how you're a champion horse rider and archer. Really, she's won ribbons in the women's division. We couldn't be more proud of her." He grinned widely and clapped his sister on her shoulder.

"You've been in competitions?" asked Susan.

"Just in the annual summer games," said Amira, still blushing. "It's tradition."

"If you really like riding, you ought to join us for our morning ride on Saturdays. You've only just missed the last one," said Susan.

"How early?"

"Well, we usually like to watch the sunrise."

"I couldn't," said Amira. "My horse detests mornings. She's an angel though, never lets on or anything."

"You could easily borrow one of ours," offered Susan.

"No," said Amira. "I wouldn't want to hurt Hasana's feelings."

Peter raised a brow. "Hasana?" he said curiously.

"My horse," explained Amira. "She gets upset if I ride anyone else. She starts worrying that she might be inadequate, you know how it is." Amira gave a slight smile.

"Well," said Susan, "I'm afraid we're out of time."

"Oh," said Amira, surprised at the abruptness of the dismissal. She stood up quickly. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, your majesties."

"Of course," said Susan, standing as well. She smiled kindly. "I hope we shall see each other again soon."

"Yes," said Amira with a glance at Peter before she stepped out the door.

Damien kissed Susan's hand gallantly before winking at her and following after his sister. Susan flushed and discreetly wiped her hand on her dress after he had gone.

"Well?" she asked Peter.

"Well what?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "I thought she was the best candidate we have so far and all you can say is 'well what?'"

"Her? The best candidate?"

"Well, yes," said Susan.

"That was one of the most awkward conversations of my life!"

"What conversation? You barely said three sentences!" scoffed Susan. "Besides, she's the only one we've met so far that seems genuine, almost honest to a fault, if I have her pegged correctly. But I've been known to make mistakes." She finished by narrowing her eyes at her brother.

"Honest?" said Peter. "I doubt it. She's just the best actress we've come across."

"Oh, grow up, Peter," snapped Susan. "Honestly, you can be so stubborn sometimes. If you weren't so determined to be miserable and hateful about this mess the council got you into, you would be married by now."

A servant came in to announce the arrival of the next young lady and the conversation was closed. Meanwhile, Damien and Amira were having a serious heart to heart of their own.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"You like Susan, don't you?" said Amira as soon as they were ensconced in their own quarters.

"Nonsense," said Damien. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Why, your very practiced indifference toward her," said Amira. "When you love a girl, you never want her to know, which is ridiculous if I do say so myself."

"That doesn't even make sense," protested Damien.

"Exactly," said Amira. "And if you didn't like her, you would have been all over her."

Damien frowned. "I'm never 'all over' girls, as you say."

"Relatively speaking," said Amira, "yes, you are."

"How do you feel about the high king?" asked Damien, trying to change the subject.

Amira shrugged. "I feel sorry for him," she said.

"Why?"

"He's obviously unhappy."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"That's because you were too busy not noticing Susan," said Amira with an eye roll, "and yes, he's unhappy. I'd almost want to do something about it if I weren't so angry with him."

"What? Why are you mad at him?"

"I'm mad because it's his own fault he's miserable!" exclaimed Amira. "Nothing bothers me more than people who are unhappy because they want to be. They're just down-right ridiculous and they end up bringing everyone else down with them, that's what they do!" Amira finished her outburst with a flounce onto the window seat. She sighed. "But I've done the same thing before," she said, "so I can hardly blame him. I understand what it's like to want to be miserable because you're too afraid to be happy."

Damien shook his head in wonder. "I'll never understand how you got to be so observant and understanding of people," he said.

Amira chuckled and shrugged. "It must be something I got from Mother," she said.

"Well," said Damien, "we're free to do anything we like until the banquet this evening. Let's go for a ride."

"Alright," agreed Amira.

Lucy was sitting in her favorite study when Susan entered looking exhausted.

"How's Peter?" asked Lucy.

"Stubborn as usual," said Susan. She sank into a plush chair across from Lucy. "We've been in interviews all day and he insists he doesn't like a single one of them."

"They can't be all bad, can they?"

"No," said Susan, thoughtfully pulling at her sleeve. "Lucy? Did we ever confirm who the council would choose for Peter?"

"No," said Lucy. "No one's had time and it hasn't seemed necessary."

"If Mr. Tumnus is right, perhaps we ought to give up looking for someone else for Peter to marry."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Mr. Tumnus did say he thought the council would more than likely choose Princess Amira, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, so far she's the only one who isn't either empty-headed, scheming or both. And she doesn't seem intimidated by the fact that Peter is high king, either. One girl spilled tea all over herself because she couldn't control her nerves in front of him."

"You want to give up, just like that?"

"Not give up entirely," said Susan with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We can still have the dances and banquets, but I think we should dispense with the interviews. They only make Peter cranky and disposed to hate everyone."

"How do you know it's not the dances?"

"I don't know for sure. We'll just have to take a chance on it," said Susan with a shrug. "Frankly, I can't handle the stress anymore. You should see what he's like in the interviews."

"I can imagine," said Lucy with a chuckle. "Shall we have Mr. Tumnus confirm the council's decision then?"

"Yes. And have Edmund tell Peter the good news about the interviews. If I have to talk to Peter again tonight I will scream."

Hearing voices, Peter paused behind the tapestry that hid the secret entrance to his room.

"Diane!" someone had said.

Peter cursed under his breath.

"Amira!"

Now Peter's ears pricked up in interest.

"Why, what are you doing here? I wouldn't have thought your father would allow you to come," said Amira.

"Oh, he doesn't know I'm here. Mother made all the arrangements," answered Diane.

"Have you only just arrived?"

"Yes. I was heading to the dance, but I think I'm lost."

"You certainly are," laughed Amira. "This is the east wing. The dance is being held in the west."

"How long have you been here?" asked Diane. "Have you met the high king yet?"

"About a week and yes," answered Amira.

"Well?" said Diane. "What's he like?"

"Oh, he's handsome enough."

"Yes? And?"

"Civil when he's not disinterested or bitter."

"Is he really that bad?"

"Heavens, no. He just feels like a rabbit at a hunting party and is taking it out on everyone else."

"He sounds more like a boar than a rabbit."

"I suppose," admitted Amira reluctantly.

"Who knows?" said Diane rhetorically. "Perhaps if he's not careful he'll chase off all the decent hunters and only the most tenacious, ridiculous and bloodthirsty will remain. But then perhaps he'll be getting what he deserves."

"Oh, no," said Amira. "He deserves better than that. He just can't help sabotaging all his chances for happiness."

"Men—when will they ever make sense?" laughed Diane.

"Dear, humans are always doing things that don't make sense," said Amira wryly.

As their voices began to fade away, Peter stepped out from behind the tapestry with mixed feelings.

"Oh there you are," said Edmund from behind Peter. "I've been looking all over for you. Good news! You don't have to do interviews with Susan anymore."

Peter looked at Edmund blankly. "Who am I doing them with then?" he asked.

"Nobody. You don't have to do them at all."

"Oh," said Peter.

"Is something wrong?" asked Edmund with sudden concern.

"Ed," began Peter slowly, "have I been acting bitter lately?"

Edmund shrugged. "I guess that's one way of putting it. Not that I blame you. The council sure did put you in bind."

"I hadn't realized," said Peter.

"Realized what?"

"That I was being obvious or that anyone could tell," said Peter with a strange look on his face. "I guess I hadn't realized that I was wearing my heart on my sleeve."

"Peter," said Edmund seriously, "your heart is always on your sleeve."

Peter looked at him surprised. "What?" he said incredulously.

"Family trait," said Edmund with a shrug. "Hadn't you noticed before?"

"No," said Peter.

"Well now you know," said Edmund simply. "Come on, we're going to be late for the dance."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The next day, Peter was in a practically giddy mood.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Edmund quizzically.

"Oh, nothing," said Peter with a smile. "I'm just happy that there are no interviews today."

"So, it finally sank in, did it?" said Edmund. "You do know it's a bad sign that Susan gave up on you, right?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Aren't you just a little bit curious about why she suddenly decided the interviews were unnecessary?"

"Not really," said Peter. "I'd rather not think about it."

Edmund shook his head. "Peter," he said. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing! That's the great part," exclaimed Peter, "All we have to do is attend a few banquets and dances."

"Yes and next week the council is going to pick your bride."

"Ugh, don't remind me," said Peter. "I'd rather go riding. How about it?"

"Sure," said Edmund. "Whatever makes you happy."

Peter and Edmund rode out of Cair Paravel toward Owlwood. They rode in silence and Peter enjoyed the beauty that surrounded him, until Edmund broke it.

"So Peter when are you going to tell me who you really fell about Amira," Edmund questioned. Peter glared over at Edmund who just smiled cheekily in response. Peter sighed softly wishing that his family couldn't read him so well.

"Edmund, I've already told you how I feel about her," said Peter.

"Refresh my memory."

"In fact I've told you and Susan, and Lucy," Peter ranted.

"Uh-huh. And the final answer is? Let me guess. You find her absolutely gorgeous, not to mention devastatingly charming. That is what you said right? Or am I just remembering things wrong?" Edmund asked mockingly.

"Your memory leaves something to be desired," said Peter dryly.

"Okay, so you actually find her devastatingly gorgeous and absolutely charming, so sue me."

"While the princess may be beautiful I do not believe that she is the right woman for me."

"Because?" Edmund prodded.

"Because…because I said so," Peter winced when he said this.

"You're just afraid she might be 'the one,'" said Edmund matter of factly. Peter scoffed.

"Please, I do not believe that."

"Because? Again I'm asking for concrete reasons here."

"You know what Ed? You're annoying me. Go away," Peter said as if banishing someone.

"All right. I'll leave you, so you can moon over your beloved Amira. Ta-ta!" With that Edmund wheeled his horse around, and headed back to Cair Paravel. Peter shook his head a little.

"Good grief. I never thought that he'd leave," Peter said to himself.

Amira looked out her window, and stared wistfully at the beautiful landscape. Narnia truly was a magical place, which she was slowly beginning to love. Amira then decided that a ride would be nice, and she stood up. She changed into her riding clothes, and walked to the stables. Amira pulled out the apple that she grabbed for Hasana, and offered it to her.

"It's about time that you came for a ride," Hasana mumbled as she munched on the apple. Amira laughed a little.

"Please forgive me. I have been very busy." Hasana snorted, and allowed the stable boy to saddle her. Amira mounted Hasana, and rode out of the stable. She allowed Hasana to wander, and Amira let her thoughts wander. Amira was confused about the situation with the high king. She could feel that she was starting to develop feelings for him, and was scared about that since he seemed to not care for her. Amira sighed a little. She wondered if it was even worth staying in Narnia only to have her heart broken.

"Princess Amira, what a delightful surprise." Amira looked over and saw Edmund. She smiled at him.

"Good day your majesty," Amira said.

"Are you enjoying your ride?" Edmund asked. Amira brightened.

"Oh, yes. It is a beautiful day." Edmund smiled at her, and a mischievous thought came into his mind.

"Some of the nicest views are at Owlwood." Edmund turned his horse around and pointed forward.

"It is the cluster of wood yonder. I believe that you will enjoy the wood," Edmund said.

"Thank you your majesty," Amira said. Edmund grinned at her.

"Please Amira; call me Edmund when we are in private. Enjoy your ride!" With that Edmund turned around, and speed back to Cair Paravel.

"What an odd man," Hasana said. Amira laughed, and patted Hasana's neck.

"Indeed, but he is a nice odd man." They headed in the direction that was pointed to them. As they went along Amira noticed another person on the same path. Amira sucked in her breath quickly when she noticed who it was. She then collected herself and put on a more neutral face. Amira's heart thundered in her chest.

"Good morn, King Peter," she called. Peter jumped in surprise and wanted to curse. _I'm going to kill him,_ Peter thought. Peter desperately wanted to ignore her, but the reaction that Susan would give made him cringe. He sighed mentally and smiled at Amira.

"Good morning, princess," he said. They rode in silence for awhile until Amira couldn't stand it anymore.

"Your brother said that this was beautiful countryside."

"Yes it is." The conversation fell flat thereafter and Amira wanted to hit something, more specifically Peter. Hadn't he ever heard of making civil conversation? However she curbed her violent wishes, and smiled at Peter. Peter was blown away from the brightness of her smile.

"My lord, I propose that we have a race to Owlwood," she said. Peter looked at her in shock, but he was a very competitive individual. He nodded at her.

"All right, my lady. Shall I give you a head start?" he said, trying to be a gentleman.

Amira smirked and Hasana snorted disdainfully. "Why, whatever for?" said Amira mischievously. She didn't wait for a reply and horse and rider were off like a shot.

Peter cursed under his breath before spurring his own horse after them. Amira and Hasana were, of course, the winners of the race.

"You cheated," accused Peter.

Amira merely grinned at him. "Forgive me, milord," she said, "for taking advantage of your chivalry, however, it was no more than you would have done in my place."

Peter scowled. "I would have done no such thing. It was a dirty trick."

Now Amira was getting upset. "You offered," she retorted.

"Yeah, well," said Peter before pausing. "I didn't expect you to take me up on it. Most ladies refuse to be treated differently than men. And aren't all women feminists?" Peter finished triumphantly, sure he was right, even if he didn't believe what he was saying.

"Oh, for Aslan's sake," snapped Amira, "don't make a mountain out of a mole hill. This isn't about feminism. You're just upset I won."

"If you're going to be that way about it," snarled Peter before wheeling his mount around and heading back to Cair Paravel.

"Aren't you going to go after him?" asked Hasana.

"Why should I apologize when I didn't do anything wrong?"

"I thought you liked him."

"I do," said Amira firmly before pausing to think about what she had just said. "I do," she repeated softly. She shook her head. "But I feel it's morally wrong to apologize for the wrong reasons!" she cried out. She bit her lip and felt like crying. With a sigh, Amira dismounted.

"Come on, Hasana," she said. "I think I see a dirt patch you can roll in. I know you like to indulge when no one's looking and now's the perfect opportunity."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Hasana nickered her thanks as Amira removed her saddle and Hasana was off to roll in the dirt to her heart's content. They were just on the edge of a meadow, which was at the edge of the wood, and there was a copse of trees which offered cool shade in the summer sun. Amira paused beside a tree, watching to see that Hasana was busy before slipping behind it and closing her eyes. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and she stubbornly wiped it away.

"Daughter of Eve," a voice rumbled, "why are you crying?"

Amira's eyes snapped open and she gasped. "Aslan!" she said.

That magnificent lion stood before her in all his glory and it seemed to Amira that he was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She nearly flung herself at his paws, prostrate.

"Amira," he said, "arise."

Amira lifted herself off the ground so she was kneeling before him and clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling.

"Amira," Aslan continued, "you have been chosen thrice over."

"I—what do you mean?" asked Amira. "Chosen for what?"

"As High Queen, you will rule beside King Peter as a good and faithful queen."

"But—but Aslan, Peter hasn't chosen a queen yet."

Aslan smiled as only a lion can. "Do not worry about King Peter. He will soon come to see the wisdom in the counsel's choice."

"The counsel? The counsel has chosen me if Peter does not chose his own bride?"

"Yes. Susan, Edmund and Lucy all approve of this choice, as do I. You will be High Queen, Amira."

"Why me? I—I have not been trained as a ruler. That is my brother's lot in life, not mine."

"Amira, you have something this country needs."

"What can I possibly—"

"You have a deep understanding and empathy for all creatures. More importantly, you will grow to understand Peter more than anyone else can. It is what he needs, to be understood by his helpmeet in life, as we all need to be. Your life experiences have shaped you to be that person."

"But we've argued almost every time we've talked," Amira protested.

"And every argument reveals more of his character to you, does it not? And as you've gained this understanding, have you not wished to ease his burdens?"

"Yes," said Amira softly. "But I do not wish to be one of those burdens, either."

"You will not burden him," replied Aslan firmly. "You will relieve his suffering as only you can. You have great depth of feeling, Amira. This is both an asset and a hindrance. Do not let your fears overcome your desire to help and love him."

"Yes, Aslan," said Amira as more tears rolled down her cheeks. She threw her arms around him and clung to him fiercely. "Thank you," she said hoarsely. "Thank you."

As Peter rode away from Owlwood he glared at nothing in particular. He rode in silence and was thinking of the ways that he could kill his brother. After all Edmund deserved what was coming to him. As Peter was planning Edmund's demise a thought came into his mind. Why was he being so mean to Amira? She did seem to be what he was looking for in a wife, in a queen. She was beautiful, kind, intelligent, and most importantly had a growing love for Narnia. He could see that she was in love with Narnia in her desire to learn more about his beloved country, and the way that she treated everyone. In short there really was nothing wrong with her. Then he remembered that appearances could be deceiving. After all he had been deceived by many of the court women however that did not excuse his rude behavior. Peter sighed knowing that he would have to apologize to Amira. _The sooner, the better,_ he thought to himself.

Peter turned his horse back to Owlwood. Peter began to think what he would say to Amira, and began to practice his speech in his head. He cringed a little, and shook his head. _That won't do. Maybe a simple I'm sorry will work. _Peter just hoped that his Amira would find it in her heart to forgive him. As Peter neared Owlwood he stopped his horse, and a wide smile appeared on his face. There Amira stood talking quietly to the greatest Lord of all, Aslan.

"Aslan," Peter exclaimed. He hopped off his horse and rushed to Aslan's side.

"Aslan, it is so good to see you." Peter smiled boyishly at Aslan, and Amira smiled pleased to see him so happy. Aslan laughed, and it seemed that all was well in the world in that small moment.

"And it is good to see you as well, Peter. I wish to speak with you." Peter nodded, and together they walked off. Amira watched as they left and went to collect Hasana from the meadow. The pair left quickly, though Amira briefly wondered if she should have waited for the High King.

Meanwhile, Aslan was having a serious talk with Peter.

"You're upset about the decree," observed Aslan, starting with a simple statement of fact to open up the conversation.

"Yeah," said Peter, ducking his head unhappily. "I just—I don't know. This whole thing—it completely blindsided me. Marriage was the farthest thing from my mind before this happened. And now, suddenly, there's so much pressure on me to pick a good bride, you know, someone who isn't power-hungry, who will be good for the country, who won't mess things up."

"Peter, everyone makes mistakes," said Aslan solemnly. "It is more important to find someone who apologizes for those mistakes than to find someone who never admits to making them in the first place."

"I suppose," said Peter.

"What of Amira?"

"Amira?" said Peter looking down at his hands. "She's—perceptive. She cares for her brother a lot; anyone with eyes can see that. And—well, I don't know. Everyone likes her; maybe I should marry her."

"Peter, you cannot spend your life doing things just because you think other people would want you to do them."

"I know, but I feel so confused right now. I don't know if I could trust myself to make the right decision."

"Fear is one of the most common sins, Peter," said Aslan. "Do not let it cloud your judgment."

"I know, I know," said Peter. "It's just difficult, that's all."

"Of course it is," Aslan rumbled. "It is difficult because you care, because it is important to you to make a good decision."

"Yeah," said Peter looking at Aslan wonderingly. "How'd you know that?"

Aslan chuckled. "You would be surprised at what I know."

When the pair had finished their conversation, Aslan and Peter bowed deeply before one another before Aslan bounded off and Peter was left alone. His horse was not far off and it was a matter of moments before Peter was heading back to the castle. He needed to have a talk with Amira. Once Peter reached the castle, he headed toward the stables. He was taking care of his horse when Susan appeared out of breath.

"Peter, you must come quickly," she said. "There's been an—incident."

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Susan wringing her hands together. "It's all a big mess. Edmund somehow got involved and now we could have a _war_ on our hands, for all I know."

"Edmund?"

"Yes," said Susan miserably. "Come _on_, Peter. We don't have all day."

Peter grew increasingly worried as Susan led him toward the infirmary.

"Nobody's hurt, are they?" he asked.

"_Yes_, people are hurt, Peter," huffed Susan as they went through the infirmary doors.

"I said stay the bloody hell away from her," Edmund was yelling. "How difficult is it to follow instructions?"

"Shut up, Edmund," said Lucy desperately. "You aren't helping."

"Damn right," roared a man from the opposite side of the room.

"Stop it," yelled Susan. The group in the infirmary stilled as they saw Peter and Susan in the doorway.

Edmund was laying on a bed on the opposite side of the infirmary from the only man Peter couldn't recognize and was presumably the man with whom Edmund had had a fight. Amira and her brother Damien were hovering over a young lady who was sitting on the edge of a bed close to Edmund. Susan quickly went to Edmund's side and was whispering furiously with both him and Lucy. Peter frowned, strode to Amira's side and grasped her arm.

"What's going on?" he asked in an undertone.

Amira shrugged unhappily. "My friend, Diane, was coming to visit me when that man, Sylvain, I think, grabbed her and tried to kiss her and Edmund saw," she said.

"I see," said Peter. "Who is he, anyway?"

"I think he's an escort to one of the ladies, you know, who came to—" Amira trailed off uncomfortably.

"Where's the nurse?"

"Gathering herbs," said Amira. "There was only an apprentice here and she went a little spare with all the commotion. She went to get the nurse."

"Alright," said Peter. "I need everyone out except those involved or injured."

"Of course," said Amira. Damien had been speaking with Diane and Amira tugged on his arm. He looked at her and nodded, said good-bye to Diane and the pair left quickly.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked Diane.

"Yes, I think so," said Diane, except she was shaking and she had a strange v-shaped mark on her forehead as if she had hit her head on something.

"Alright, stay here," said Peter. "The nurse will be along shortly. I need to speak with my brother."

Peter dismissed his sisters; Susan looked at him sourly as she left, but Lucy only looked worried. She looked pointedly at Sylvain, but Peter ignored her and turned his attention to his brother.

"Where are you hurt?" Peter asked Edmund.

"Pulled my arm out of the socket and sprained my wrist, I think," said Edmund.

"Really?" asked Peter incredulously. "You only sprained your wrist, but somehow Sylvain's bloody leg got broken?"

Edmund shrugged and scratched his head. "I don't know how it happened either. It's all muddled, really. There might have been stairs."

"So from what I've heard, you were defending a woman's honor, is that right?"

"Basically."

Peter sighed. "And you couldn't have been more careful about it? Susan's right; we could have a war on our hands. We don't even know who this guy is."

"Exactly," said Edmund. "We don't know who he is, so he's probably not anyone important."

"Doesn't matter," said Peter. "It's still a scandal."

"But I wasn't the one who did anything wrong!" protested Edmund.

"Did I say that?"

"You implied it."

Suddenly the infirmary doors burst open and the head nurse sailed through with her apprentice on her heels.

"Good gracious," the good woman said disdainfully. "Did none of you notice that poor girl's going into shock? Go take care of her," she commanded, pushing her apprentice in the direction of Diane's bed. "You," she snapped at Peter, "Come help me set this man's leg. He's fainted, but the pain may wake him."

Peter helped the nurse set Sylvain's leg. Unfortunately, he did wake and nearly bit through his tongue in the process, but the difficult part was over and the nurse bustled about, trying to make the man comfortable. Peter made his way back to Edmund's bed where the nurse's apprentice was looking him over after settling Diane.

"He'll be alright," the apprentice assured Peter just before she left.

"Yeah, sure," said Edmund who looked decidedly pale after his arm had been put back into its socket.

Peter sank into a chair next to Edmund's bed and ran a hand over his face.

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Edmund distractedly, looking over his brother's shoulder.

Peter turned to see what Edmund was looking at. A girl had just entered the infirmary and approached the head nurse. Her soft and gentle voice nevertheless carried to where the boys were sitting.

"How is my uncle?" she asked, concern etched across her face.

"She's the man's _niece_?" hissed Edmund furiously. "She ought to be ashamed."

"Should we be ashamed of you?" asked Peter sharply.

Edmund looked stricken. "I—I didn't mean—"

"Forget it, Edmund," said Peter tiredly. "I need to talk to Susan. She'll probably know what to do."

A/N: Ok, so there won't be another update for a long time. My co-writer and cohort on this fic is busy with school and I've been busy with other writing projects, including a poetry portfolio which can be found at . Just look in the bookstore; it's called "Haunts" if you're interested and contains such titles as "My Bloated Heart", "The Ghostly Garden," "Pan's Winter," and "Hades' Hell".


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Chapter Eleven

Amira sat in front of the lavish mirror in her guest chambers absentmindedly brushing her hair while deep in thought. Damien paced behind her.

"Do you think Diane will be alright?" asked Amira.

"Yes, yes, yes," said Damien, waving away Amira's concerns with an impatient hand. "But damn it, did she have to get mixed up with Sylvain Dishelm of all people?"

"She didn't do it on bloody purpose," said Amira, turning from the mirror and setting her hairbrush down with a loud thunk. "She was coming to see me and happened to run into the horrible man, that's all."

"That's _not_ all—it just so happens to be all around incredibly bad luck. You know Sylvain and Ulrich have been engaging in a personal feud for years now."

"Ulrich doesn't have to find out, does he?"

"And how are we going to keep him from finding out?"

"Well, it's not as if Sylvain is going to be boasting of his defeat by stairs, is he?"

"No, but what of Diane's family? You know how over-protective her father is. I'm surprised she was even allowed to come."

"She wasn't allowed to come."

"What?" yelled Damien.

"Her mother arranged it," explained Amira as she calmly returned to brushing out her hair.

"Well that's bloody brilliant," said Damien. "Now we have to keep it a secret not only from our brother's worst enemy, but also our kingdom's best ally."

Amira rolled her eyes and set her hairbrush down again. "Why must you over-complicate everything?" she asked. "All we have to do is keep our mouths shut. Diane won't be in any hurry to tell anyone either. The only wild cards in the deck are the dynamic quartet, as you call them."

"Yes," murmured Damien, pausing to stroke his chin. "And how are we going to take care of them? They're the kings and queens of Narnia. We can't exactly bribe them or kill them off, can we?"

"Don't be silly," said Amira. "They're so busy with this wedding business, I'm sure they'll want it shushed up just as much as we do."

"There's only one way to find out," said Damien, grinning wolfishly.

"What exactly are you planning?" asked Amira with a raised brow.

"Oh, you have nothing to worry about, dear sister. Nothing at all," he said and he sailed out the door. Amira stared at the empty space where her brother used to be with a confused look on her face.

Somewhere else in the Castle

Susan walked briskly down the corridor with the events of the day swirling through her mind. So engrossed was she in her thoughts, she missed Damien barreling towards her.

"Susan!"

Susan gasped and put her hand on her chest. She then glared at Damien.

"Oh, sorry. Uhh...can I talk to you for a moment?" Damien asked. Susan continued walking.

"Yes? About what?"

Damien followed.

"Well, you know stuff. Like for example your brothers wedding. Or, um...what happened tonight, err...?" Susan rolled her eyes.

"Are there any other subjects that you wish to annoy me with?"

"The beauty of your hair? Wait, no; I didn't say that. I really want to know your opinion about what happened tonight." Susan walked faster.

"I can't talk about it right now; we're having a conference about the incident that occurred tonight," she said. Damien quickened his step to match Susan's.

"Well then, I'll come with you!"

Susan stopped abruptly. Damien stopped and looked at her.

"What?" said Susan sharply.

"I'll come with you?"

Susan shook her head. "No, you won't. Only those who are ruling the kingdom can come."

"Marry me!"

Susan stared at him shock.

"What?!?"

"I said marry me; then I can come to your meeting."

"No."

"Okay." He turned around, and walked off. Susan rolled her eyes, walked faster, and when she showed up in the meeting room Damien was already there.

"What are you doing here?" Susan questioned.

"Oh, Peter said that I could come."

Susan glared at Damien. "Peter? What is the meaning of this?" she hissed.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "He asked, I said yes."

Susan walked up to Peter. "But he isn't a part of this," she said.

"Yes, he is Susan. My word is final." Peter walked away from Susan and she took a deep breath to stay calm.

"Susan, we're starting," Lucy called.

Susan shook her head. "This is madness," she muttered as she took her seat.

"What was that Queen Susan?" Damien called. He smiled sweetly at her.

"Nothing."

Peter started the meeting. "So, we all know why we're here. Edmund screwed up."

"Hey! I resent that," Edmund said as he entered the council room.

"You're late," Peter said.

"It took me forever to shake the nurse off. So where were we?"

"We were at the part where you screwed up," Peter replied.

"I was defending a woman's honor," Edmund shot back.

"And it was very brave of you," Lucy said, trying to comfort him.

"Enough chit chat," said Susan. "What are we going to do about it?"

"What's there to do?"

"Who says we have to do anything? We're not going to get sued."

"But the gossip—"

"All we have to do is get rid of the evidence."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Of course not. We'll just send him home. What did you think I meant?"

"Uh—never mind."

"So just like that? Problem solved?"

"I guess so."

"See, Susan. It wasn't the end of the world, after all."

"Shut it, you."

"Oh good," interrupted Damien. "I was afraid there was going to be an inquisition or something like that and that could get real messy. It's a good thing we think alike."

The four siblings turned to the prince of Archenland and stared.

"How long has he been here?" asked Edmund.

"Peter invited him," said Susan with a sour look on her face.

"Oh well, nice to see you, mate," said Edmund, slapping Damien on the back with his good hand.

"Thanks," beamed Damien.

"So, meeting adjourned?" asked Lucy.

"Sounds good."

"I agree."

"Thank heavens. I'm beat."

"Night all."

"Night."

They all filed out the door and Damien just managed to grab Susan's sleeve before she was able to flounce down the corridor. Susan glared at him, and she really wanted to hit him. There weren't too many people that Susan had violent thoughts towards mostly just Peter and Edmund. But Damien just seemed to raise her ire. Damien smiled sweetly at her.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Nothing much. I just wanted to know if you would take a walk with me in the garden."

"I would rather bite my hand off." With that she tugged her arm out of his hold and walked away.

"Don't you think that is rather dramatic?" Damien called after her. He got no reply. Damien sighed.

"You have got to work on your flirting, mate." Damien jumped and saw King Edmund standing by with a smirk on his face.

"Your majesty, excuse me." Damien tried to run away, but was blocked by Edmund.

"Listen, Damien. I know that you like my sister," said Edmund.

"I really have no idea—"

"Don't try to deny it," Edmund interrupted. "I think you'll be good for Susan, so this is my advice on how to get into her good graces."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

They turned around when they heard a snort come from behind them. It was Lucy. "Damien," she said, "trust me; you don't want to take advice from him."

Edmund rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "This is man-talk, Lu."

Lucy tsked at him. "First of all Edmund I am a girl, therefore I know a lot more about what Susan would want than you. Second, _I'm_ the one she talks to about a certain prince."

"Really?! Who? Is it me? Ah, it couldn't be me. The girls I like never like me back!"

"Quit pouting, Damien," interrupted Edmund. "And you, Lu. Go back to bed."

Lucy ignored Edmund and gently said, "Yes of course she talks about you, Damien."

Damien was listening to neither of them and was slumped against the wall. Edmund waved his hand in front of Damien's face.

"I think he's gone, Lu. Pity."

Lucy simply rolled her eyes and gave Damien a swift slap. "Snap out of it," she shouted.

Damien rapidly blinked out of his stupor before shouting, "OW! That really hurts!" and holding his hand to his face.

"Wow, Lu. I didn't know you could reach that high."

Lucy punched her brother on his shoulder.

"Ow," whined Edmund.

"Stop being a baby, Edmund."

"Since when were you so violent anyways?" asked Edmund.

"It's obviously the only way to knock some sense into you. But if you don't want my advice then I shall take my leave. Good night."

"No, wait!" pleaded Damien. "Tell me about Susan."

Lucy smirked and turned around. "I knew that you would see things my way. Here's the thing, Damien. Susan likes you, but she is in complete denial about it."

"How can you be sure?"

"She won't shut up about you. It's Damien this, Damien that. Damien drives me crazy, he never shuts up. Blah, Blah."

"You call that love?" scoffed Edmund. "No, listen to me, Damien. I know exactly how to woo a woman. Start with flowers-"

"Oh Edmund. Did you forget that Susan is allergic to most flowers?"

"Er well, yes actually," said Edmund sheepishly.

"That would explain a lot," murmured Damien.

"See, that's the problem," said Lucy. "You need to get to know Susan a little better as a person before you start courting her. And you need a plan, too. You can't just randomly start talking to her about things that stress her out and annoy her."

"I don't do that."

Lucy laughed and didn't stop.

"What's so funny?" asked a bewildered Damien.

"It's best not to ask. Let's sneak away before she comes to her senses."

"Oh no you don't, Ed," a breathless Lucy said. "Look Damien; think about what I said. Talk to Susan like you would talk to your sister."

"Blech," said Edmund.

"Very mature, Ed," said Lucy before continuing. "And then you will be able to get to know her better and then you can 'woo' her, as Edmund says. Now, I have to get my beauty sleep, so I'll see you boys tomorrow," Lucy finished and with a slight nod, took her departure.

"Geez," said Edmund. "Women- they think they know everything. Ok, Damien, here's the plan. I know something Susan loves and isn't allergic to."

"Me?"

Edmund smacked him upside the head.

"Chocolate, you nitwit!"

"Oh. Right."

Minutes later, Edmund has adjourned to his own quarters while Damien returned to his where his sister was waiting for him.

"Damien, where have you been?"

"I don't know. Saw Susan."

Amira raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"It happened so fast. I think she said no, so I went and asked Peter."

"Damien, that makes no sense. Did you ask her to marry you?"

"Possibly; I'm not really sure."

"Then what happened? What did she say no to?"

"Oh, there was some meeting or other about that one bloke. She didn't want me to go," he said and sighed heavily.

"I see." Amira was putting the pieces together. "And you asked Peter if you could go to the meeting?"

"He said yes. But Susan didn't."

Damien was forlornly tracing the carvings on the back of one of the formal chairs near the fire.

"Hmm...did you talk to Susan after the meeting, Damien?"

"She'll never say yes to me. She hates me."

Amira looked at Damien. "Damien, she doesn't hate you."

"Everyone keeps saying that! How do they know? How do you know?" asked Damien desperately.

Amira jumped a little. She took a deep breath. "I know because...I just do!"

"Well you don't know Susan any better than I do, so how can you know?"

"I know because her actions speak for themselves. She likes you but is scared to admit her feelings. What happened after you talked to Susan?"

"What? Before or after the meeting?"

"After the meeting."

"Well, it happened so fast-" he trailed off. "I asked her for a walk in the garden and she said she'd rather bite off her hand."

"Oh."

"I wonder if it's because she's allergic to flowers."

"What?"

"I talked to King Edmund and Queen Lucy and Lucy told me that Susan is allergic to flowers."

"Oh. When did you speak with them?"

"After I spoke to the angel. Susan the Gentle, Susan the Angel, Susan the Beauti--"

Amira tried hard not to laugh, but ended up laughing uproariously.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh Damien. Did King Edmund and Queen Lucy try to give advice on how to court Susan?"

"Well, yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Pray tell, what was their advice?"

"Uh, well there was lots of hitting."

"What did you do?"

"I don't remember. And then Lucy gave a big speech and left."

"Lucy hit you didn't she? What was her speech about?"

"I don't know. Something about a plan. I was too busy thinking about Susan to pay attention."

"Did Edmund give you any advice that you remember?

"He told me that Susan wasn't allergic to chocolate."

"Hmmm."

"It's real lucky, too, 'cause I'm not allergic to chocolate either."

"Indeed."

Suddenly a thought came to Amira.

"Damien, why do you think that Susan would say no to you if you asked her to marry you?"

Damien thought for a long time.

Then he finally said, "Because she thinks I'm an idiot."

Amira chuckled.

"Then don't be an idiot. If she sees the real you then she will begin to love you."

"How can I not be an idiot, then?"

"When you talk to her don't ask her to marry you unless you have been courting her. Second don't call her angel or Susan the Beautiful or any of the like; at this point it will scare her away."

"But how do I court her?"

"What do you think you should do?"

"Well... ask her to dance?"

"That's good if you're at a ball. Show her that you care what happens to Narnia, try to become friends with her family."

"I'm already friends with her family. She's the only one of the whole bunch I'm not friends with. Speaking of, I don't suppose you and Peter are friends yet?"

"Oh don't turn on me; this is about you."

"Oh fine, make everything about me. It always has to be about me," said Damien sarcastically.

Amira sat down tiredly and sighed. She smiled weakly up at him. "It looks like we're both having the same problem."

"Yeah, but at least you are being yourself and can keep your wits about you when you see the person you like."

"I've always been more graceful than you."

"Yes. And prettier and wittier and funnier. Don't remind me."

"Oh Damien, don't be so hard on yourself. When you see Susan just don't sprout off nonsense."

"I know, I know."

"Well brother, it's late and I must sleep. Be yourself and be patient. Everything will work out.

"Right," said Damien tiredly. "What a day."

A/N: K, I don't think this chapter is quite up to par with the other chapters, but my co-author and I have been a bit out of practice what with school and all. *sigh* It's a pity that school must interfere with fanfiction. Anyway, any suggestions for improvements, especially for this chapter, would be greatly appreciated. Thanks! All you reviewers are great!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: So, my computer crashed and I was totally discouraged about even continuing this story because of that and then I got married and then I went back to school with my husband and now I have an off semester (year round school means I get to go winter/spring) and am finally ready to continue this story. Enough with the excuses; here goes:

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright to The Chronicles of Narnia and make no money from this story.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, Amira was looking out of her window absentmindedly when there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to see Mr. Tumnus and looked at him in mild surprise.

"Yes?" she said.

"High King Peter has requested an audience with you, Princess Amira. If an hour hence is agreeable to you—"

"I can be ready now," said Amira with a concerned look on her face. "Has something else happened? Is Diane all right?" she asked as she exited her room and pulled the door shut behind her.

"She's quite alright, milady," said Mr. Tumnus quickly. "I did not mean to cause you alarm. It is only that High King Peter wishes to speak to you on a matter of some importance, or so was the impression he gave me."

"Important, but not urgent?" Amira asked, trying to clarify the situation.

"Yes, milady. If an hour hence is agreeable—"

"Are you sure I shouldn't go now? I mean, if it is of some importance—"

"He is, indeed, available to see you now, milady, if you so wish. If you will accompany me, I shall announce you to him."

Amira bit her lip worriedly. "It's only that if it is truly important, and especially if it's about last night—"

"Of course, milady. If you will follow me?"

Amira nodded and followed the faun. They walked for some minutes before arriving at the door when Mr. Tumnus went inside to announce her. When he came out, he bowed her inside and in Amira went.

The room was a small study with several bookshelves and a writing desk. Peter sat behind the desk and he gestured for Amira to sit on one of the chairs in front of him as he stood up with his hands behind his back. He nodded at her, coughed, stepped around the desk to get closer, paused as if he didn't know what to do with himself, winced and then opened his mouth.

"Princess Amira—" he paused again and shifted uncomfortably. "I—I wanted to apologize."

Amira looked at him in surprise and obvious confusion.

"About yesterday, I mean. The uh—the horse race," he said. Peter continued. "I was a poor sport," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have allowed myself to get upset. And for that, I apologize."

Amira looked down at her hands folded neatly in her lap and paused a moment, clearly in thought.

"It's alright," she finally said, glancing at him quickly while smoothing invisible wrinkles in her dress.

"I'd forgotten about it, actually," she confessed and her lips quirked into a small smile. "Forgive and forget, you know."

Peter visibly relaxed and unclasped his hands from behind his back.

"It's always been that way with me," she continued with that small smile still on her lips and she glanced at Peter.

"I'm glad," he said with a grin. She returned his grin and it was quiet for some moments.

"Would you like to go riding today?" he asked abruptly. "I mean, you know, with me?"

She smiled as if she wanted to laugh and told him that she would indeed enjoy riding with him.

"After lunch, then?" he asked.

She acquiesced and they parted ways until the appointed time for their afternoon ride.

* * *

While Peter and Amira were making plans for the afternoon, Susan was walking from her room toward the counsel room where she and Lucy were going to meet with Mr. Tumnus to work out plans for the soon-to-be wedding with, well, whomever Peter was marrying; though it looked to Susan at this point that Princess Amira was going to be the beautiful bride.

A hand suddenly grabbed her elbow and she whirled around, preparing for a fight, natural instincts taking over. But two hands grabbed her own and she looked up into the surprised eyes of Prince Damien.

"Didn't you hear me call your name?" he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I—no, I didn't," she said, pulling her hands out of his and rubbing her wrist in embarrassment.

"I beg your pardon, then, milady," he said.

Susan looked at him sternly, hiding her true feelings of suspicion.

"I'm not stupid," he said abruptly.

"What?" said Susan, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm not stupid," he said. "I wanted you to know that. I've acted a bit of a moron round you lately and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," she said brusquely, pushing pass him.

"I've been thinking about it a lot since last night," he continued, following on her heels. Susan rolled her eyes and walked faster. "Whether my sister marries your brother or not, I thought I'd better apologize. I don't want you to think ill of me, especially if we're family."

"Don't worry," said Susan, turning suddenly on her heels with a chilly smile on her face. "I'll try my best to forget about it."

"Good," he said with a relieved smile.

"I have a meeting," she informed him.

"Oh, yes. I'll let you get to your meeting, then."

"Thanks," said Susan.

* * *

This particular morning, Edmund was hiding in his own study. Though he was not the main attraction, many of the pragmatic, hopeful, or sickeningly romantic young ladies had been seeking his attention after being rejected by Peter. He rubbed his good hand over his eyes and through his hair in frustration when there was a knock at the door. A manservant came into the room and told him there was a young lady to see him.

"I thought I told you I was not to be disturbed," said Edmund.

"She insisted that it was of some importance," answered the manservant.

Edmund sighed. "Send her in," he said.

The young woman who walked in was the niece of Sylvain Dishelm, the man Edmund had put in the infirmary with a broken leg the night before. He raised an eyebrow and his lips tightened, but he said nothing. She was clearly nervous, clenching her hands together until the knuckles were white.

"My uncle has been removed to a nearby inn for his recovery," she began. "I feel I must apologize for his behavior—"

"It isn't me you should be apologizing to," interrupted Edmund.

"I've already apologized to the young lady."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I have work." He stood to escort her out of his study.

"Milord, I would like to apologize," she insisted. "Please."

Edmund sat back down and gestured for her to continue.

"When my uncle offered to escort me, I was not aware of his true character. He has always been good and kind to me, treating me as a daughter when my father has been dead these past years. I was not aware of his aggressive nature in pursuing romantic interests, but I have spoken with his manservant and now know the truth. I apologize for bringing such a man to an event such as this."

She had spoken her piece evenly and steadily though her hands shook. Edmund took note and softened. He knew how difficult it was to apologize, but had never thought to imagine what it was like to apologize for someone else's behavior. He briefly wondered if his siblings—but no. He didn't want to dwell on that.

"It's not your fault," he said. "You didn't know."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I'll leave you to your work."

She slipped out the door, leaving Edmund something to ponder over the next few hours.

* * *

Around lunch time, Amira was in her room readying herself for her ride with High King Peter when Damien entered her room.

"I spoke with Susan this morning," he announced glumly.

"What's the matter?" asked Amira, laying down her hairbrush.

"I apologized," he said.

"But that's good," exclaimed Amira.

"She didn't accept it. She pretended to, but it wasn't real."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I pretended I believed her. I didn't want a row."

"Oh, Damien," said Amira sadly. She knew where this was going. "You're giving up on her."

"I made such a mess of it," he said as he sat on the foot of her bed. "I can't fix it. She won't let me. So I have to let her be."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia and make no money from this story.

Chapter Fourteen

"Damien, you can't give up," Amira said and continued, "Look, Peter and I are going riding this afternoon. You should come with Susan."

"She'll be busy," said Damien, "Trust me."

"No, she won't," said Amira wryly. "We'll get Lucy to make her come. You get ready; I'll find Lucy."

Amira had barely finished speaking when she was out the door and away. Damien followed as quickly as he could, but Amira was already down the hall when he shouted, "Don't you think that's a bit dramatic?"

He looked at the faun standing across the hall from him. "I was only going to let her alone until the wedding planning was over. She'd be less stressed then." Damien paused and looked at the bewildered faun. "Aren't you Mr. Tumnus?" he asked.

"Yes, I believe I have that honor, sir," replied Mr. Tumnus.

Damien shut the bedroom door behind him and put his hand on Mr. Tumnus' shoulder in a companionable manner.

"Look, you have the ear of the four, don't you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"They confide in you, don't they? King Peter and all them?"

"Well, yes, but I wouldn't do anything to betray any of their confidences."

"Of course, but it concerns my sister, you see."

"Ah," said Mr. Tumnus with a nod of his head.

"I was wondering if it would be a bit premature to send for my brother and sister-in-law. They wouldn't want to miss, well—you know, if perchance. What I mean to say is—You know, if er—"

"If your sister marries King Peter?"

"Right, that one."

"I would be pleased to send the messengers myself, sir."

"Good, right. Thanks. I'll, uh—just go then."

* * *

After lunch that afternoon, Susan and Peter met Damien and Amira at the stables where they prepared for a ride along the coast. They were ready quickly, though Susan rode out first, wishing to put some space between her and the rest of the party. She was not quick enough, however, and Damien quickly caught up with her. Peter and Amira were riding behind them, talking quietly.

"They seem to be getting on, don't they?" asked Damien.

"Yes," said Susan.

They were silent for several moments before Damien spoke again.

"There is—a particular punch that is a favorite of Amira's. The ingredients are somewhat rare, a particular type of fruit being necessary, and so we—"

Susan interrupted, saying, "I beg your pardon, Prince Damien, but I don't know why you are troubling _me_ with this information."

"For the preparations," Damien stuttered. "For the wedding."

"I wasn't aware that my brother had pledged himself to your sister. Unless you are implying that my own brother doesn't confide in me?" Susan arched a brow.

"N-no."

"Then we shan't talk of it, shall we?" said Susan firmly.

Damien was taken aback at first, but he gathered himself together and replied, "I beg _your_ pardon, Queen Susan, but your brother has been favoring my sister with his particular attention. I hope you don't mean to imply that your brother plays with the hopes of women."

"Certainly not!"

"Then we shan't speak of it, shall we?" said Damien archly, before urging his horse ahead.

Damien muttered to himself angrily. He had first seen Queen Susan talking to Mr. Tumnus about some sort of arrangement and it hadn't been just her looks that had caught his attention, but her air and the graceful way she moved. He had been so sure that he was looking at a true Queen—a woman of substance, of confidence—that he had immediately been attracted to her. Now he was starting to wonder if her pride would have gotten in the way even if he hadn't acted like a fop in front of her in the first place. He had done nothing to deserve her behavior—nothing of importance anyway. Who was she to—

Damien's thoughts were interrupted by a cry for help. There was a figure splashing about in the water some fifteen feet further up the coast. Damien urged his horse into a gallop toward the commotion. The rest of the party soon caught on to what was happening and followed quickly after him.

When he reached the figure, Damien discovered it was a woman of noble birth, average height and weight, who couldn't swim. He was wondering why a woman who couldn't swim would wander into the ocean in the first place when said woman stopped blubbering and began calling out to High King Peter.

"King Peter, oh!" she exclaimed. "Thank you for saving me! My goodness, I would have drowned if it weren't for you!"

The entire party had difficulty not rolling their eyes and Damien spoke up quickly.

"If you will come with me, milady," he said, "I will escort you to the palace."

"Oh but, King Peter—" she began to protest.

"You will be fine in the fully capable hands of Prince Damien, milady," said Peter stiffly.

"A prince?" asked the woman, turning her eyes to Damien.

Damien helped the woman onto his horse and began leading her back to the castle as she chattered away about how grateful she was. Susan watched them go with cold, disapproving eyes.

* * *

Prince Damien was speaking quietly to Queen Lucy.

"Of course I will make arrangements for the punch," said Queen Lucy. "Thank you for letting me know. I don't suppose you also know her favorite flower?"

Damien looked surprised. "Er—no, I don't," he said.

"Favorite color then?" asked Lucy expectantly.

"Purple," said Damien firmly and then he paused. "Perhaps green? No, she likes both, I think. Yes, purple and green," he said.

"I'll just ask Amira," said Lucy. "I'm sure they will be making the announcement soon enough and then I can ask her everything."

"Yes, of course," said Damien.

"How was your afternoon?" said Lucy with a smile.

Damien frowned. "Fine," he said. "I must go."

He left abruptly and Lucy frowned after him. She would have to ask Susan about what had happened.

Meanwhile, Peter and Amira were in the gardens where they had first met. They were having a serious discussion.

- The End -

Look for the sequel, Prince Damien's Luck.


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